The Disagreeable Greeting Card

 

I just received my bank’s annual “Greeting Card”… a.k.a. a multiple paged print-out of their amendments to “my” credit card “agreement”. Oh, btw, I’ve positioned quotation marks around both “my” and “agreement” because… be they original or amended… [1] I’ve had no say in any of these stipulations AND [2] no one has any right to disagree… unless, of course, they don’t want to have a credit card at all.

But this does not mean I cannot recommend a summarizing, cut through all the crapola blurb, which would never need any revisions. How tree / time saving and honest the following abridgement to their terms would be…

We, the undisciplined, unprincipled, unforgiving, usurers of the world reserve the right to… on a whim… bankrupt you into homelessness and hopelessness with our sky high interest rates, penalties and fees. We will always have the final word and last laugh and… Ha! Ha! Ha!… there’s not one damned thing you can do about it… Ha! Ha! Ha!

As for their privacy statement… why do they even bother issuing one. If they truly respected our privacy they would do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING with our personal information without our prior, written and signed consent.

 

 

 

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A Month of Sundays ~ Sunday Song Series

Welcome to Week #37 of our Sunday Song Series. Prepare for a bit of intrigue not entirely of my own making.

This time, we’ll ALMOST be giving a listen to Don Henley’s composition… A Month of Sundays. While it’s a.k.a. CD bonus track #8 from his 1984 album, Building the Perfect Beast… apparently… in the vinyl LP format, there’d been insufficient room for inclusion of this lyrically noteworthy song.

It would appear that YouTube’s astronomically vast platform has insufficient room for inclusion of this song, too. They’ve successfully set up a barricade to our musical adventure with their terse advisory… “video blocked in country”.

Hence, that blog topper roadblock vid… for the moment… will be in lieu of our usual, featured, Sunday Song, recording artist.

One has to wonder how any of this can possibly be playing out… or more to the point… not playing out… especially when several other tracks from that exact same Beast album are readily available.

Further adding to feelings of incredulity is how that ACCESS DENIED status applies, too, to Henley’s live performance of A Month of Sundays at a decades ago, FarmAid benefit concert!

Perhaps, this inaccessibility issue does not exist in your neck of the worldly woods? If you feel so inclined, you could attempt your own YouTube search by utilizing the following copy and paste parameters…

don henley a month of sundays

As you may have guessed from my lengthy narrative, I don’t readily accept the prospect of 180 degree, musical detours OR winding up in the ditch… ergo… rather than simply moving on to some other recording artist’s Sunday Song. I’ve opted to do some fancy footwork.

That’s because… now more than ever… Mr. Henley’s lyrical message needs to be heard… or in lieu of that… at the very least… read.

His keen sensibilities… maybe even prescience… have allowed him to spot-on address the farmers’ plight… how they continue to be [1] screwed over by avaricious, usurious bankers, [2] unforgivably under-served by self-serving politicians and… as of late… [3] flat-out betrayed by and plunged into bankruptcy by a fraudulent, fake prez who’s been waging his ill-timed, ill-conceived, international trade war.

And all of that duly noted… let the fancy footwork now begin. Check out my patched together presentation of Don Henley’s A Month of Sundays… courtesy of [1] YouTuber Sean Cheek’s piano tutorial… no less… and [2] via a printout of Henley’s must read song lyrics.

Don Henley ~ A Month Of Sundays

A Sean Cheek Piano Tutorial

Songwriter: Don Henley
A Month of Sundays lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

 

I used to work for Harvester
I used to use my hands
I used to make the tractors and the combines that plowed and harvested
This great land
Now I see my handiwork on the block everywhere I turn
And I see the clouds ‘cross the weathered faces and I watch the harvest burn

I quit the plant in ’57
Had some time for farmin’ then
Banks back then was lendin’ money
The banker was the farmer’s friend
And I’ve seen dog days and dusty days;
Late spring snow and early fall sleet;
I’ve held the leather reins in my hands and felt the soft ground under my feet
Between the hot dry weather and the taxes, and the Cold War it’s been hard
To make ends meet
But I always kept the clothes on our backs;
I always put the shoes on our feet

My grandson, he comes home from college
He says, “We get the government we deserve.”
My son-in-law just shakes his head and says, “That little punk, he never
Had to serve.”
And I sit here in the shadow of the suburbs and look out across these
Empty fields
I sit here in earshot of the bypass and all night I listen to the rushin’
Of the wheels

The big boys, they all got computers; got incorporated, too
Me, I just know how to raise things
That was all I ever knew
Now, it all comes down to numbers
Now I’m glad that I have quit
Folks these days just don’t do nothin’ simply for the love of it

I went into town on the Fourth of July
Watched ’em parade past the Union Jack
Watched ’em break out the brass and beat on the drum
One step forward and two steps back
And I saw a sign on Easy Street, said, “Be Prepared to Stop.”
Pray for the independent, little man
I don’t see next year’s crop
And I sit here on the back porch in the twilight
And I hear the crickets hum
I sit and watch the lightning in the distance but the showers never come
I sit here and listen to the wind blow
I sit here and rub my hands
I sit here and listen to the clock strike, and I wonder when I’ll see my
Companion again

 

The fancy footwork is still afoot, folks… I really do feel bummed about not being able to actually provide Henley’s A Month of Sundays… ergo… I’m including the following clip where… although… strictly speaking… this is not a Sunday titled song… [1] there is similar, significant social commentary and [2] concerns for the well-being of the farmers of my homeland… indeed… our entire world… do get astutely addressed and echoed by another legendary singer/songwriter…

Tom Paxton ~ Early Snow

 

I now cordially invite you to click back here for our next Sunday Song… seven days from now…

 

 

 

 

 

Summing Up Predatory Lenders

 

As a lifelong liberal, I have principles. One of them is to not take too kindly to anyone who ever inflicts pain and suffering upon others… be that pain emotional / physical / fiscal. My disgust for such tormentors can only heighten when their victims are the most vulnerable members of our society. That’s what happens whenever the sadistic, arrogant, disrespectful, privileged few perpetuate their stacked against the masses system. Their MO likely backdates to the original slothful, slobbering, opportunistic caveman who first decided to profit off the losses of others.

Yep… there we find mister caveman sitting on his ass… laughing his ass off… grunting out proto-words….

“Me not take time / effort to hunt / gather when my club can maim / murder / rob other hunters / gatherers who do grunt work for me… HA! HA! HA!”

Of course what we ARE talking about, here, is protoman… the prototype of today’s predatory lenders / banksters. After all, do not today’s barely evolved simply sit on their asses and laugh their asses off while fiscally assaulting the hard working masses? And oh how smart and smug these knuckle draggers feel (if “feel” is even the operative word here) when they pay fractions of one percent interest rates on savings accounts and then sock credit card holders with ever-increasing rates in excess of the 30 percent range. And don’t even get me started on payday lenders.

What happens next is disgusting. After gorging on all that ill-gotten wealth they then take a dump on Wall Street… where their Trumpian deregulated, cavemen cohorts help them invest in wild schemes… which should be… but are not always deemed illegal / amoral. As if the lawless accumulation of obscene wealth weren’t bad enough already, their system also results in corporate income tax returns, which not only show NO TAXES OWED but also actually reward the lazy with freakin’ REFUNDS!

Such haughtiness is deeply rooted within their “too big to fail” status where… no matter how severely they F-up the global economy… they know they can always count on their crooked, congressional cronies to bail them out. Indeed, these lawmaker / lawbreakers financially grope / molest the already bled dry, hard working, average Janes and Joes who dare not defy them… especially when the legislated tax code has sharp teeth… i.e., flawed laws (flaws) that threaten to imprison them unless they fork over hefty chunks of their meager earnings to re-prop up these morally and financially bankrupt banksters.

Worse yet, the average predator is incapable of ever growing up and learning from his own mistakes. He will willfully F-up again and again and again and… AND… well… if you thought the 2008 global monetary meltdown was tough… just wait for the imminent, Trumpian variety to ferociously rear its ugly head.

Long sigh…

Folks… that’s why my reaction to / rejection of these banksters is so visceral. Deeply rooted within me is my long held belief that the deeply rooted in dishonesty and brutality, predatory lenders have made even a modestly good life out of reach for time clock punching folks who oft spend their entire lifetimes turning in an honest day’s work with very little to show for it… other than fatigue and massive credit card debt.

So… if you are such a bankster, don’t ever expect me to welcome you into my world.

 

 

Nothing In Common ~ 1 Quick Limerick #079

 

Why would too-big-to-fail bankers with heft,
Hanker to follow my blog leaning left,
I am a commoner Dem,
Have zilch in common with them,
Of common sense are they bankrupt / bereft?